The Hero Dies in this One
by ShiverMeFunzies
Summary: At the end of a battle, one friend saves the other, one friend lives, one friend dies.


: Don't own Merlin, If I did, the show would be on all year round and would never end. EVER!

A/N: I know most of you are throwing daggers at me for not finishing my other story. But think of it this way, now that I've finished one…there's plenty of motivation to finish another. Please review and tell me what you think.

The Hero Dies in This One.

White hot pain radiated through Arthur's body as Alvar thrust his sword into the young king's side. He wanted to cry out on pure agony, but all he allowed himself was a quiet gasp as he jerked his body backwards. The sword slid right out, sending another coarse of electric pain through his abdomen. He paid it no heed. This war would not end in Alvar's victory. He and Morgana would die today.

He was vaguely aware of the war waging around him. He knew Merlin was engaged heavily in battle somewhere on the other side of the field. All evening the sounds of magical spells being hurtled between witch and warlock had both reassured and worried Arthur. He was relieved that he could hear Merlin's voice, and concerned that it would be the last time. After all, Morgana was not to be underestimated. They had all learnt that the hard way several times over.

But Arthur wasn't really worried. Not about winning this war. He knew without a doubt that Merlin would protect Camelot. He would win, one way or anther. All Arthur had to do was follow through with his part. He needed to finish Alvar off. And so he would, even if it's the last thing he ever did.

So Arthur mustered the last of his strength to spin his sword just in time for Alvar to strike his second blow. The sorcerer didn't have a chance. Excalliber went straight through his heart. The renegade druid stumbled backwards, shocked at his predicament. With one last accusing glance towards Arthur, he crumpled to the floor.

Arthur staggered towards Alvar's body and pulled out the magical sword from his enemies chest. There was no way he was leaving Merlin's gift out here in the open battle. A weapon like this in the wrong hands could destroy them all. That's what Merlin kept babbling on about anyway. Besides, swords were great to lean on. Something Arthur really wanted to do right about then. When leaning became akin to falling, Arthur decided that it was time to find Merlin. He would not allow himself to fall, not without knowing that the kingdom was safe, not without know that _Merlin _was safe.

Looking around him, it seemed like the world had quieted down, acknowledging his triumph in battle. If Arthur didn't know better, he would believe himself to be the only man left standing. A mist had descended upon the area, almost hiding the blood, gore and stench of lives ruthlessly cut short.

It was creepy, but Arthur knew he was not alone. He could feel Merlin's presence. He hadn't heard any spells in a while. It bothered him, worried him even. But just as images of Morgana harming his best friend began to form in Arthur's mind, they were quickly quelled by the sight of a tall but scrawny little figure make his way through the mist. Relief flooded through every pore in Arthur's battered body as the warlock slowly came into view.  
>Merlin stopped a fair distance away, watching Arthur with a similar sense of relief. Both men broke out into smiles. They had both done their jobs. Camelot was safe.<p>

With that realization came the knowledge that Arthur could let go now. One hand firmly placed around the wound in his side, he stumbled towards the warlock. His side ached fiercely as the initial shock began to wear off, but he paid it no heed. He had to reach his friend. The going was slow, and at first Merlin didn't appear to realize what was happening. He just stood there, watching, thinking, observing his friend from the distance. He took slow and tentative steps until his eyes finally locked onto the blood seeping through Arthur's chainmail. Finally the boy leapt into action, making his way to Arthur faster than the eye could blink.

"M…Merlin. You idiot! What took you so long?" Arthur chided as his knees buckled just in time for Merlin to catch him. Merlin gasped as all of Arthur's weight suddenly fell into his arms but he didn't drop the king. Slowly he lowered Arthur to the floor. His eyes frantically roved the older man's body, panic welling up at the sight of the pool of blood beneath Arthur's fingers.

"It's alright Arthur, I've got you." Merlin whispered, with just a hint of panic that he couldn't shield from his dying friend. But it didn't linger too long. Soon determination took place of his primal fear, and Merlin began to meticulously work at the wound, covering it with his own palm to stop the bleeding. Arthur's body twitched involuntarily as the pressure Merlin was apply on his wound made pain flair up more fiercely than before.

"I leave you for a few minutes and look what you get yourself into. What are you going to do when I'm gone? Mmm?" Merlin mumbled. Arthur smiled, grateful for the distraction.

"force of habbit I…s suppose." He gritted out. Merlin's only reply was a tight smile as he focused all his energy in keeping the wound closed.

"Morgana?"

"She's dead Arthur. You're free to rule Camelot without fear now. No one's going to attack Albion. You hear that? So all you have to do now is hold on, and I'll patch you up as good as new."

Arthur was vaguely aware that Merlin's hands were shaking. It was telling of the toll this whole battle had taken on the already too thin young man.

"A bit too late for that…don't you think?"

"Don't be such a baby. You're going to be just fine. You'll see." With those moderately reassuring words, Merlin sucked a ragged breath before allowing his magic to take over. Merlin's soft blue eyes blazed a molten gold that Arthur had never seen before. His eyes were like orbs of sunlight: warm and comforting.

The feeling of warmth seeped slowly from Merlin's palms, like a gentle stream it began to flow into Arthur's would. For a moment it felt like he was floating, and then suddenly the pain was gone.

Merlin removed his palm and silently stared at his handy work, then nodded to himself and grinned his usual goofy grin.

"Well that was bloody c..close wasn't it?" Merlin muttered. Arthur just sat there stunned for a moment. Then without warning, he bolted upright. Merlin almost fell over with shock of the sudden movement.

"We won!" Arthur exclaimed. His face lit up into the brightest smile Merlin had ever seen. A breathy sigh escaped his lips. The relief hadn't properly set in. He almost seemed lost. There was something else in his features too, a finality that Arthur couldn't describe. Perhaps it was sadness, or acceptance. It was hard to tell with Merlin sometimes. At that very moment, knowing that they had won, Arthur didn't really care. All he knew was that he wouldn't be here without Merlin, quite literally. An overwhelming sense of gratitude suddenly took hold of him as Arthur engulfed Merlin in a fierce bear hug.

Merlin tried to resist, something Arthur found to be rather odd. Merlin was much more openly affectionate out of the two. Their almost hug from a few years ago came to mind, when Merlin had helped rid the kingdom of a goblin queen. That had been rather awkward. No matter, this was not a moment to be wasted with modesty. He was king and if he wanted to hug his best friend as a show of his gratitude, then he would get his hug. This time Arthur leaned in and practically manhandled Merlin into submission.

Merlin hissed a little but clamped his mouth shut. Arthur soon discovered the reason for the warlock's sudden aversion to being touched. The hand that Arthur had laid upon his servant's back came into contact with something decidedly wet and sticky. Arthur pulled back his hand to find fresh blood lacing his fingers.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, his heart already in his throat.

Merlin just smiled wearily, not even bothering to lift his head from Arthur's shoulders, where it had unwillingly flopped during Arthur's failed attempt at hugging. "Apparently Morgana's had a lot of practice with throwing daggers."

For some reason Arthur's mind didn't follow. He stared at his hand again before turning Merlin to the side as gently as he could. There, protruding from his back was the hilt of one of the most beautiful and ornate daggers Arthur had ever seen.

"No…" Arthur whispered. "No…no no no." He caught hold of Merlin once more, pulling him towards his chest. "This can't be happening! Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were preoccupied." Merlin mumbled. He was tired. He'd had a long and weary battle with Morgana. He'd made the mistake of taking pity on the witch as she begged for mercy. It seemed that Kingharah had been right after all. Trying to see the good in people did become the reason for Merlin's downfall. Merlin had granted Morgana a pardon and was about to go check on Arthur when she suddenly struck him from behind. Merlin couldn't describe the wave after wave of pain and agony that ravaged his body once the dagger had penetrated his flesh. It was the most excruciating thing the warlock had ever experienced. He'd staggered backwards for a moment, losing all sense of balance. If it hadn't been for the fact that his death would lead to Albion's demise, Merlin would have fallen to his death then and there. Instead he managed to gather his wits one more time, for Albion, for his king. And so, without a second thought, Merlin unleashed every ounce of magic he possessed.

Lightening bolts appeared out of the barren sky. A tsunami of magically charged electricity overwhelmed Morgana. The witched screeched in her annoyingly high pitched voice. It was the last Merlin saw of her, as her body burst into flames soon after. Despite himself, Merlin felt a tinge of remorse for a friendship that was once dear to him. But Morgana hadn't been that friend for a while now. Especially after she lodged a bloody dagger into his back. Speaking of which, that REALLY hurt.

Arthur's steady stream of conversation brought Merlin back to the present. The king sounded devastated. Merlin couldn't tell what he looked like anymore, as his head was currently resting on Arthur's shoulder. He didn't have the strength to move, but he knew, he just knew that Arthur was loosing it. It was time to put on a brave face. With a little effort Merlin lifted his head to face his king and tried to project some reassurance through his eyes. Arthur didn't buy it.

"You'll be alright. You should have said something. But it's alright, we're going to get out of here. Then Gaius will fix you up and…" Merlin just nodded. Not really listening to what the king was saying. He knew he'd already had his miracle for the day. He'd saved Arthur. This was the happiest ending he would get.

"Right, you're just…g..going to f..fly me there are you?" Merlin mumbled. Arthur pouted disapprovingly, not willing to give into this morbid train of though Merlin was embarking on. All the while, a treacle of blood began to make it's way into Merlin's throat. He tried to clear the offending liquid away but it persisted. Soon it found it's way to the young man's lips. Arthur quickly moved to wipe his best friends face as he continued talking.

Merlin tried to speak past the blood but Arthur shushed him, like a mother does to an ailing child. His words however were another story.

"Shut up you idiot. Stop acting like a girl's petticoat. I'm taking you back to Camelot." Arthur tried to get up and lift Merlin but the warlock caught his arm. The wound in his back protested bitterly at the movement as even more blood began to seep through the wound in his back. He let out a quiet gasp, but it was enough to halt Arthur in his tracks.

"Arthur…please. It hurts. Just sit here. It's okay…" Merlin's words were beginning to slur. Arthur was distraught with panic.

"No. You just healed me! Do it again. Heal yourself." Arthur ordered desperately.

"You know I can't."

"What good is learning how to heal if you can't even heal yourself?"

"It saves your sorry ass." Merlin replied with a pout. But the effect was ruined as a gut wrenching cough made it's way past Merlin's throat. Blood spattered everywhere as the warlock tried to stifle it. If Arthur had been terrified a few moments earlier, there was no way to describe him at that moment. Merlin tried to reassure the king through his eyes again but it continued to have little effect. "It's alright. Really." He tried, this time hoping his words would calm the terrible storm of despair building inside Arthur.

"How can you say that to me? I can't do with without you."

"You can."

"I can't and I won't." Merlin didn't have the energy to argue. He let his body sag further downwards until he was half lying on top of Arthur's lap. Tears began to fall unbidden across Arthur's face. He didn't know what to do.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked quietly.

"Y…yes Merlin." Arthur bit out, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was openly crying of his selfless friend's broken form.

"It…It was an honour."

"No Merlin. The honour was all mine." Arthur replied, pride shining through his voice. No truer words had ever been spoken. Arthur was blessed a thousands times to have had the privilege of being called Merlin's friend. He was the kindest, wisest, most loyal and selfless person Arthur had ever known. He'd changed Arthur's whole life. He was the true hero of Camelot. No knight, no king, no one came even close.

Merlin smiled at that. His eyes shone for a moment with pure happiness, but all too soon, they began to close on their own accord.

"Merlin please….please don't go." Arthur begged.

"I'm…I'm not. I'll just be watching over you from the other side." Merlin replied.

"Please…please you idiot. Don't leave me alone!" Arthur yelled. He was beside himself now. He couldn't do anything. Merlin had saved his life only moments ago and Arthur couldn't return the favour.

Merlin's body jerked a little as a spasm of pain took over. His eyes flew open, shockingly blue and beautiful all at once. With one last glance, he drank in all the features of his best friend and true king.

He didn't say anything else. There was nothing to say. Albion was safe, Arthur was safe and all his friends back in Camelot were safe. It was okay to let go. With one final reassuring smile, the warlock closed his eyes for the last time.

Arthur just sat there, too stunned, too numb, too broken to move. This was supposed to be his last battle, not Merlin's.

It wasn't right. The world wasn't supposed to be so unfair. Merlin was supposed to grow old with him. Destiny had cheated them both. There was no Albion without Merlin. There was nothing without the warlock. No friendship, no wisdom, no kindness…nothing.

-FIN-

A/N: What do you think? Please review!


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